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 Whence God incarnate came Some thund'rous message roll? Nay, This have I heard, His voice within my soul.

What hast thou felt to-day? The pinions of the Angel-guide That standeth at thy side In rapturous ardours beat, Glowing, from head to feet, In ecstasy divine? Nay, This only have I felt, Christ's hand in mine.

THE TERESIAN CONTEMPLATIVE

She moves in tumult; round her lies The silence of the world of grace; The twilight of our mysteries Shines like high noonday on her face; Our piteous guesses, dim with fears, She touches, handles, sees, and hears.

In her all longings mix and meet; Dumb souls through her are eloquent; She feels the world beneath her feet Thrill in a passionate intent; Through her our tides of feeling roll And find their God within her soul.